


Inner Geekery

by Yalu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Community: love bingo, Doctor Sexy M.D., Fans, Gen, Silly, fan convention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 18:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yalu/pseuds/Yalu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You're making me look straight," Charlie grumbled as yet another group of girls with Spock ears walked right past without even glancing at her.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> Charlie takes Dean to a fan convention - to meet Dr Sexy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inner Geekery

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [love_bingo](http://love-bingo.livejournal.com) Round Three. Prompt: Declaration of love.
> 
> Thank you to Signe_chan for walking me through the details of a convention and giving me some idea of how people behave there.

"You're making me look straight," Charlie grumbled as yet another group of girls with Spock ears walked right past without even glancing at her.

Dean scowled and hunched deeper into his jacket as they walked through the crowded hotel ballroom. "Yeah, well, you're making me look like a nerd."

It was half-true; Charlie was dressed up in a Han Solo costume that she'd spent weeks making and ordering bits for, complete with belt and thigh holster, and it would be perfect if she weren't a redhead and, you know, a she. Dean was cool with the whole genderbending costume thing (if he were honest, he was trying to figure out if he should find it hot, but Dean was never honest with himself about that), but she kept aiming and firing her plastic blaster at half the people who went by. Most shot back or clutched their sides in fake pain. Dean had a white coat in his rucksack.

"You _wanted_ to come, handmaiden. Sam and I didn't even have to make up a boring People of Letters thing to scare you out of the house."

"Knew we should've been sexist assholes about it. _Men_ of Letters don't go to geek conventions."

Charlie shot him. It was pretty lame when he didn't react.

She sighed and side-stepped an Iron Man who obviously couldn't see through his helmet. "Dude, come on, you're like my Chewbacca here. Own the role."

"I feel stupid," he muttered.

"That's 'cause you look like more of a dork _not_ cosplaying like the rest of us." Dean didn't reply, just kept his eyes on his shoes. Charlie dug out her wrinkled expo map and scanned the list for something, then looked up, stood on tip-toes, and turned until she spotted something. "Come on," she said, tugging Dean's sleeve, "I got something I know you'll love."

Dean frowned at her back as she sped up and veered left. He started to follow and almost crashed right into a pair of Batmen and their Loki sidekick. The Loki tried to poke him with his glowing blue sceptre. Dean ducked out of the way.

Charlie was leading them into a thicker part of the crowd, where the aisles between stalls were so packed that you had to zig-zag around people at every step; the nerds were crowded so tight around one table that Dean couldn't even tell what they were selling. Probably more of the same things he'd seen already - every second table seemed to be full of steampunk jewellery or boxes of comic books. There were places doing gory makeup, others selling action figures or DVD box sets or stuff for costumes, others with huge screens set up showing movie trailers or demos for video games with 3D effects more realistic than Dean thought was actually possible this century. Some artist was making caricatures of people and another was showing off paintings, here and there were tables stuffed with boxes and bags of really rare candy and all of it was really tempting, but it was only when Charlie zipped past the third custom T-shirt stall that Dean got suspicious.

"You've been talking about getting a new _Firefly_ shirts for two months," he accused as she brushed past one with _I aim to misbehave_ printed on it. "You taking pity on me?"

"Only because you're pathetic," she said, grinning at him over her shoulder. "They'll keep. Trust me - best stuff is this way. Hope you've got some new credit cards ready, Winchester."

He was about to retort when she reached up (and _up_ ), clapped a hand over his eyes and steered him around one last corner. "Charlie-"

"Shh! My surprise - don't ruin it."

He gave in and just listened as they walked up to this super-secret comic nerd mystery table. Some people nearby them were talking about Rohirric versus Gondorian designs, someone up ahead was listing prices and- Was that a whetstone?

Charlie pulled her hand away with a flourish. The table in front of them and the wall behind it were packed with _swords_.

Not just any swords - _cool_ swords. Jagged, wicked-looking monsters and graceful things that came right out of Lord of the Rings. There were Samurai swords and swords that hid in walking sticks, thin rapiers with huge cage guards and weird curved ones that Dean vaguely remembered from Star Trek. There were short swords, too, and scythes and spears and brass knuckles, and on the table there were throwing knives and throwing stars between some _seriously_ awesome daggers and pocket knives. Dean felt his eyes widen. "Wow," he said. "Are those real?"

Beside him, Charlie grinned. She nodded and wriggled them into a gap so he could look closer. "They're blunt, of course," she said quietly, "and I don't know how long they're gonna last if you use them on real monsters all the time, but... yeah, real steel swords."

" _Awesome_."

Dean kept them at that table for more than half an hour, asking to see one sword after another and getting more and more impressed by each one. The weight and balances were perfect. The grips were sturdy. These things could honestly arm a small squadron of knights – they'd be weird mixed-up knights from lots of fantasy lands, but they'd be able to fight. The guy selling them didn't get grumpy with him either, just kept happily chatting about the history of this style and how that one was modelled after something ancient that Dean only later realised was from a TV show he'd never heard of. He ended up buying three - a broadsword with a leather grip, a Samurai and one of the weird ones with fake ancient writing on the fuller - plus a bunch of throwing knives and some daggers for Sam, because he'd always liked those better.

"Hey Charlie, you want anything? My treat."

She looked up from inspecting a shield with a white tree on it and shook her head. "Nah, thanks. Wouldn't go down too well with my subjects if I killed the next round of new squires. Besides-" she spread her arms to show off her costume "-I'm space age today, remember? Han Solo only uses blasters."

Dean chuckled and handed the sales guy his credit card. "Been meaning to ask, why'd you crossdress anyway? I thought you had a thing for Princess Leia."

"I _do_ have a thing for Princess Leia. That's the point," she said in a 'duh' voice, and grinned wickedly when Dean started to fidget. She didn't push it, though, and after the sales guy finished explaining how the stuff would be boxed for him to take home and when to come back to collect them, she hooked her arm through Dean's elbow and led him in a whole new direction. "So, you like?"

He grinned. "Hell yeah. Nerd city was so worth that."

"Good, cause it's almost two and I've got us tickets for a pre-panel signing you will _die_ for."

Dean frowned, puzzled. "What, like autographs?"

"Exactly like autographs, handmaiden," declared Charlie, and she pointed to some huge posters hanging behind a big crowd of fans standing in rough lines. One, the one they were walking toward, was of Dr Sexy.

Dean stiffened. "He's here?"

Charlie grinned. "Yep. Maruis Henley. I didn't think we'd get him this year but there was some drama with the studio execs or something so now he's not filming all week and didn't have to cancel after all."

About three very different weird feelings starting churning in Dean's stomach. He picked the easy one to go with. "You mean they're not going to make a season ten?"

"Of _course_ they're going to make season ten." She started walking again, but Dean hesitated. Over the top of the crowd he could just see Dr Sexy's signature hair bobbing up and down as he (no, the actor - Henley) walked to the middle of the signing table and sat down.

"Er, you know what, it's okay. I don't really care that much-"

Charlie, who'd mainlined seasons four through nine with him, rolled her eyes. "We've got tickets for one autograph each, and since I bought you yours, you'd better use it. Pick a photo and get it line."

She prodded him on and he started to see what she meant. At the start of their queue was a table full of glossy photographs - all of Dr Sexy. Some were of Dr Sexy in his office, or Dr Sexy doing surgery, or flirting with a nurse, or looking solemnly at a nurse, or watching a nurse walk away, and some were posed shots of Dr Sexy leaning against a door or a tiled wall or just standing there in his white coat and cowboy boots, and they were all so se-

Shiny.

While Charlie was paying the lady manning the table, Dean tried to pick one. It shouldn't have been hard, they were all pretty much the same, but halfway through reaching for the one from the ep where Dr Sexy was confessing to Dr Piccolo about being secretly married six years ago, Dean noticed that one of the posed ones had a better shot of his boots. His hand hovered over the two photos for way, way longer than he was willing to admit.

Of course Charlie noticed. She leaned over until the tips of her hair were dragging on the tabletop. "Seriously?"

"What?"

She just gave him The Eyebrows. Dean snatched up the nearest picture and got into the line.

Then he noticed that almost the entire crowd was made up of white coats over dark blue shirts and jeans or the occasional real scrub pants, with all sorts of leather or fake-leather boots underneath. And, almost all of them were chicks. Shuffling forward with Charlie, step by step, Dean tried to pretend they weren't all looking at him, whispering and giggling. The ones who weren't were talking about Dr Sexy and whether he should marry Dr Piccolo or Dr Wang (and three guesses who they were dressed up as), or if people really got struck off the medical registry for experimenting on patients (uh, yeah), and a lot about ships and "OTP"s... but a lot of them were still sneaking looks at him.

Helpfully, Charlie said, "You know, you'd stand out less if you were wearing a costume."

"Shut up."

He ducked as low as he could, realised it would never work as long as he was still four inches taller than them, and instead looked down at the photo in his hands. Turned out he'd picked the posed one, only now his fingerprints had left smudges all over the thing. Charlie had dramatically rolled her eyes and started flirting with some of the doctors, so Dean rubbed the smudges off on her vest. She scowled at him.

As the line shuffled closer, Dean got a few peeks at the signing table, and finally a good view of Dr S- Maruis Henley. Funny how Dean had never thought about the name belonging to a completely different person than the guy he knew. Henley wore some funky rings and a black wristband with some beads on it, and sometime since sitting down he'd tied his hair in a ponytail. Dr Sexy never, ever wore a ponytail. It was _weird_.

And he wasn't the guy Dean was here to see - the guy he was here for was Dr Sexy, not some actor. What did he care about getting a signature from some guy whose name he never even remembered? This was stupid. He should just-

Charlie caught him before he'd taken two steps. Sharp eyes. Maybe she really should be a hunter. Only, not if she was going to glare at him like that all the time. "What do you think you're doing?"

Dean shook his head and pushed the unsigned photo into her hand. "You have it - you paid for it-"

"Don't you dare wimp out on me here, Winchester. I'll hunt you down."

"Charlie-"

She whipped out her blaster and trained it on him. "I _will_ use force if necessary."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "That thing doesn't work."

"No, but yelling 'get back here' really loud will embarrass the crap out of you," she retorted.

He scowled. "Seriously? _Embarrass_ me into this?"

Charlie sighed. "Come on, it's not that bad. You give him the picture, he signs it, you say thanks, you go. No one's going to care. And you'll be happy to have it later, I promise. It's a memento! It's... you can hang it on your wall. You know, in your room? The one that needs some decorations that can't kill you if they fall?"

But Dean shook his head. "It's just a picture."

"It's the experience! You get to say 'I met him'. Or just remember being here. The whole thing, not just this. Come on, man, that's what being a fan _is_ \- we get together and gush over stuff and blow money on souvenirs to make costumes and do it all again next year."

"...Yeah. Right." Dean squinted at her. "Do you really think that's gonna convince me?"

"Well, no," said Charlie lightly, suddenly smiling, "but now we're next in line."

Dean spun around; a staff member was ushering them forward, and past her the actor - Henley- Marius - was watching him (watching _him_ ) expectantly, patiently tapping his pen on his hand. Dean gulped.

Charlie pushed him forward. "I hate you," Dean whispered.

"Love you too," she replied.

Henley smiled politely as they walked up. Charlie smiled back cheerfully and stowed her blaster so she could offer the photo she'd picked out, and glanced back at Dean like she was demonstrating for a five-year-old. Henley said hi, asked how she was doing and what name she'd like it addressed to, and chuckled when she said "Han Solo". He said something about always like Han best when he was a kid as he made her a big loopy silver signature, and handed it back. "Thanks!" said Charlie, and then they both turned to Dean.

Seething - and feeling a whole lot of other things too, but we'll go with seething - Dean kept his eyes down and sort of shoved his photo under the guy's nose, and pretended not to see him smile because damn, forget the rings and ponytail, he looked _exactly_ like Dr Sexy. Stupid, Dean, he _was_ Dr Sexy.

Dean scowled - at himself, but they couldn't tell, so Charlie glared and kicked him. The actor kept smiling politely and carefully didn't look at either of them when he lifted his pen and asked "Who should I make it out to?" so Charlie could answer for him.

Didn't Dr Sexy do that back in season three when two of his nurses were fighting?

"To Dean," Charlie told him.

Henley nodded and wrote _To Dean, I hope you enjoy next season! -- Marius Henley_ , and trailed off the ink line of the last Y into a little wiggly Z shape at the bottom. It was fast and obviously a habit, and it was exactly what Dr Sexy did - Dean had noticed when he'd re-watched the season six premiere where Dr Piccolo only caught an intern faking mistakes in Dr Sexy's reports because he hadn't copied that detail right. It was obviously something the writers had decided to include because Dr Se- because Henley was already doing it. Or Henley was doing it now because he knew Dr Sexy did.

Henley slid the photo off the table and handed it to Dean. "Thanks for coming."

Of course he knew how Dr Sexy signed his name. He'd created the guy. Or helped, whatever. And okay, he wasn't _really_ Dr Sexy, but... did it matter?

Another staff member started herding them away. Dean opened his mouth to say something - that he was sorry for being a dick, that this was great, or just "thanks", but what came out instead was, "Man, I _love_ you. You're _awesome_."

Henley blinked and the herding lady hesitated. Dean didn't really notice.

"I didn't think much of you, when I started watching, it all seemed pretty standard, but in season two when you had that epileptic tumour patient, and you couldn't examine him without hurting him, and you kept doing this up-down thing with your eyes like you didn't want to look at him 'cause it hurt, but you had to? That was great, man, really delivered it, and that had to be you, you can't tell me the script called for something that small, and it really made all the difference, you know? And- Er. Oh."

The staff member looked a bit startled. Charlie was stuffing her fist into her mouth to keep quiet. But Henley, thank god, looked happily surprised. "Thanks," he said - warmly, way more real than all the assembly-line things he'd been saying so far. "That one was a real risk, actually; the director thought we'd turn off a lot more viewers than would like it. I'm glad it paid off."

Dean felt his cheeks pull from grinning but he looked down bashfully and scuffed his toes on the carpet. "Yeah, me too."

Henley smiled and nodded at him "Well, thanks for coming," he said.

The staff member herded them off more forcefully this time.

Once they were away from the queue and the table of other star signers, Charlie burst out laughing. She laughed and laughed like she'd been dying trying to hold it in, and ended up bent over double, hands on her knees and sucking in breaths between laughs only to use them up cackling all over again. She laughed until her eyes were wet and she had to lean on Dean to scrub them with her sleeve. Dean was too happy looking at his signed picture and glancing back at the table. Eventually he looked over at her, half-collapsed on his arm with her head on his shoulder, and grinned. "Okay, you were right," he said. "That was totally worth it."

Charlie just laughed again, and kept chuckling in spurts after she got her breath back and could stand up straight again. "Man, I should've made you my court jester. _Please_ do that again next year."

"Not a chance in hell."

"I'll tell Sam about this."

"...I'll lead the Shadow Orcs against you."

"Damn," said Charlie, but she was grinning. The photograph she'd picked out was still in her other hand, and she pulled a flat hard folder out of her bag to put it in. "Want me to hold on to yours, keep it safe?" she offered. Dean nodded and handed it over, and as he looked over her shoulder he noticed another stall selling bits for costumes - but not just any costumes. Cowboy boots.

"Oo, I want some," he said, and Charlie had to look around for a second before she caught on and laughed again.

"Finally gonna geek out properly, huh?"

Dean grinned and dug into his rucksack. He shucked his army jacket, pulled out the white coat, and put it on with his head held high. "Gotta look the part," he said.


End file.
